


Celestial Alignment

by starkind



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), DC Cinematic Universe, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Ambiguous Relationships, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Manipulation, IronBat - Freeform, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Male Slash, Multi, Possibly Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 22:13:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3826891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkind/pseuds/starkind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, the universe and its constellations lead you astray at first sight.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this nasty little plot bunny kept on nagging at me until I eventually sat down and gave it a go. Apologies if it's a little rough around the edges; at least I'm about to get it out of my system.
> 
> Heavily inspired by the lyrics of the song "King" by Years & Years, because I just can't help myself.

They had been like a supernova.

A bright flash of an explosion that outshone the whole galaxy for one moment, only to vanish just as quick as it had occurred. So much energy radiating from their fusion, burning brighter than the sun.

An entire lifespan summarized over the course of six months.

When Tony Stark came crashing into Bruce Wayne's life, he did it not in one of his hideous metal suits, but in a classic three-piece Gucci. He did, however, leave an impact that could have been very well forged by iron. His ability to get under the Gothamite's hardened skin was a combination of persistence, charm, wit, good looks - and the fact that he saw right through Bruce's well-constructed facade.

“You're the big, black bat, ya, ya, ya; figured. So what? Got any other kinks I should know about? No? Well, then let's fuck.”

During their brief time together, Tony never told a living soul who was under that cowl and cape, and Bruce never bothered to explain any of it to him either. As much as the two of them were quite different, character-wise, they instantly clicked in between the sheets like nothing else. Then, after a while, mind-numbing sex turned to misconception, like in many cases where eventual boundaries had not been defined firsthand.

The result? An ultimatum.

One fine day, Tony Stark went, put all of his cards on the table, and expected to get what he wanted, as he was accustomed to. “I'm willing to go beyond the friends with benefits thing, Bruce, but you gotta give me something to work with here, too, y'know? Take your dark, brooding act out into the streets if you must, but don't shut me out all the time, for fuck's sake!”

It turned out the spheres of Bruce Wayne's dark cosmos were unable to offer permanent refuge for the cosmic ray that was Tony Stark.

When their gravitational collapse was inevitable, the Californian billionaire took it as straight-faced as possible for his expressive nature, turned around and left without another word or goodbye. For weeks on end, Bruce found himself waiting for the proverbial, other shoe to drop. However, not a single headline about their secret affair, or him being Gotham's vigilante made rounds.

Part of him felt bad for alleging Tony to go and backstab him in public as the scorned ex-lover.  
Part of him was irritated for no real reason to find his bed empty upon his returns in the early morning hours, after his nightly patrols.  
And a small, persistent part inside of Bruce Wayne chided him for his decision.

It was not until four months later, in 2011, that New York had survived the Chitauri alien invasion and experienced the forged alliance of the so-called Avengers. The news made a certain person from Gotham spend more thoughts on the man behind the iron mask than he liked to admit to himself. As he pondered whether or not to get in touch, fate had it planned for Bruce Wayne to attend the same charity event as Tony Stark.

Alfred had lured him into making some goodwill publicity stunt to fortify Bruce Wayne's image as a generous industrialist outside of Gotham, and Bruce had caved in; for the sake of supporting the rebuilding of Manhattan, even if he abhorred to leave his own hometown unguarded for a night.  
  
Once he had sent his token female companion off on a tour with the organizer of the art exhibition, Bruce regarded the vernissage from a solitary spot on the gallery above. No matter the city, those events were never to his liking. Part of him toyed with the idea of chartering his jet and make it back before 2AM for a late patrol when he saw a familiar outline saunter through the bustle down below.  
  
His eyes narrowed when he regarded the tall, athletic blonde by Tony's side.

At the way Captain Steve Rogers seemed content with Tony's hand in his, some unknown feeling stirred deep inside of the Gothamite. It would have been simple for Bruce to disappear into the night without being seen, but there was an urge in him to stay, to observe.Driven by something akin to gravitational force, he hovered on the outer rim of Tony's orbit, until the shorter man eventually looked up and caught his gaze.

One hand on the banister, Wayne then raised his glass of ginger ale, indicated a casual toast into Tony's direction and took a sip. Various emotions crossed Stark's face within mere seconds, until he smirked, tilted his head, and deliberately grasped Rogers' biceps. The blonde was engrossed in a conversation with one of the artists but threw his companion a brief sideways glance when Tony demanded his attention.

Bruce watched how Tony acted out the role of the nonchalant, eloquent playboy next to Captain America while he finished his drink. Even as he changed his vantage point after being spotted, Bruce still noticed the glances the other billionaire kept stealing towards the gallery. When the blonde Captain eventually wanted to follow the artist over into the showroom, Bruce saw Tony point into the direction of the restrooms.

Saw the way Rogers nodded, and how their hands lingered intertwined until they got separated.

And then, Bruce Wayne moved as well.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Inside the venue's spacious, luxury restrooms, Tony had just finished washing his hands and glimpsed down to grab a towel from a little wicker basket next to the designer sink. When he looked back up into the wall-size mirror, he stared at a face he had not seen up close in a long time.

“Hello, Tony.”

Bruce Wayne leaned in the doorway, hands in the pockets of his pants and an indecipherable expression on his face. Tony turned to face him and threw the used towel aside with a grin. He then spread his arms in a welcoming gesture, though rather for show than it being an actual invite. The Gothamite refrained from moving an inch. “Bruce. Stalking much? Thought I'd seen the last of you back in... when was it? March? April?”  
  
His voice was stable if a bit forced. Bruce freed a hand from his pocket to give a vague gesture.

“Been a while indeed. How's things? You're team playing now, from what I've heard.” He stepped closer to hold his hands under the faucet of the second sink. Tony mimicked his earlier stance and shoved his fists into the pockets of his pants, out of Bruce's view. For a brief moment, he fixated his glance on the meticulous way Bruce soaped down his long, elegant fingers.

“Yeah, going swell, actually. I'm an Avenger now, so I must've done something right, I guess.”  
  
Their eyes again met in the mirror while Bruce toweled his hands dry in slow motion. Then he mustered the shorter man with a thin-lipped smile. “Congratulations then. Looks like you've been lucky – in more ways than one.” An uncomfortable silence ensued. Eventually, Tony mustered up a small, yet confident smile. “For sure. Steve's a great guy. Honest, caring, reliable...”

He took two steps backward when Bruce both nodded and zeroed in on him at the same time. “And that's what you've been looking for.” Tony swallowed when he bumped into the marble wall next to the hand dryer. His eyes darted around Bruce's face which was now less than twenty inches from his. The condescending tone in the smooth voice angered him, so Tony put up an equally supercilious expression.

“I'm not looking for an emotional cripple, true that. Steve _can_ do feelings.”  
His voice hitched ever so slightly when Bruce placed a hand next to his head on the wall.  
“Noble trait. Quite touching in fact. But tell me – can he do this?”

Without hesitation, Wayne dipped his head low and found the well-known, sensitive spot on Tony's neck with ease. It caused the shorter man to close his eyes and give an actual moan, even though his hands came up to push against Bruce's broad chest. A wave of familiar feelings, scent and memories flooded Tony's mind and olfactory sense. The longer the ministrations went on, the less force his resistance held.

At some point, he even began to rake his fingernails across Bruce's pectoral muscles but stopped when his brain registered what he was doing. Tony's brows furrowed in anger and his eyes snapped back open. “Oh fuck you, Wayne. Fuck you.” Hazel-green eyes swam into his vision. Those sinful lips then twisted into a knowing grin.

“With pleasure.”

Before Bruce got the chance to capture Tony's mouth, the latter turned his head away.  
“No. Not this time. Not like this.”  
His shove held more force the second time and caused Bruce to actually take a step back.

“So it's something serious then. Rogers and you.”  
The non-question did not indicate that Wayne was the least bit bothered by the rejection.  
“I intend it to be, yes.”

That time, when Tony moved out of Bruce's close vicinity, the Gothamite let him escape.  
“All the best to you, Tony. I mean it.”  
Standing in the doorway of the restrooms, Stark turned around one last time to catch his gaze.

“It would've been great, Bruce. We would've been great. Be safe, okay?”  
With a heavy heart and a deflecting smile, Tony returned upstairs to where Steve was talking with the gallery owner.  
He did not see Bruce Wayne again for the rest of the evening.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The birth of a star begins by being formed in nebulae and interstellar clouds of dust and gas. It soon forms into something real as a fusion of many factors begins. For a while, it emits intense heat, up to a point at which it glows brightly. Sadly, the most massive stars also have the shortest lives.

Tony could not recall when he started to keep tabs on Bruce Wayne again.

It probably started once he realized things were not going anywhere with Steve, almost a year into their relationship. At first, it was just the occasional dip into random facts found on the internet. When he went and instructed Jarvis to alert him on any kind of news regarding the Gothamite, Tony knew he had a problem. One that he needed to address with the man by his side.

Of course, Captain America and Iron Man still fought splendidly in battle; side by side like clockwork.  
  
Their personal battles, however, became harder and harder to ignore, let alone were to be fought out with the same ease or confidence as in the field. In a way, Steve still was that kid from Brooklyn, fueled by strong beliefs in righteousness and freedom. While those traits were exactly what had drawn Tony to him at first, he had started to notice the huge differences the decades between them created in their everyday lives.

When they talked about the good old times, Steve began to talk about the time before the war while Tony referred to the Lakers' last season.  
When Tony created or talked about technological marvel, Steve was fascinated, but hopelessly lost.  
Where Steve liked to spend a leisure evening at home, drawing into his sketchbook, Tony wanted dinner at fancy restaurants, fast cars, and action.

Even if all of that was not too bad in itself, the way Steve saw so much of Howard in him began to disgust Tony at some point. He tried to smother his doubts with more activities in between the sheets, but the longer things went on, the more Tony felt himself yearning for something else.

For something less vanilla, something more dark, dangerous and unpredictable.  
For someone who understood Tony's high-level train of thoughts; his lifestyle, his motives.  
For none other than the so-called Prince of Gotham and his double life as the city's dark knight.

Needless to say, Steve was no fool.  
  
Much to Tony's luck, he was also responsible and mature enough for them to be able to end things on a peaceful note, and still be able to look each other in the eye during and after the heat of battle. Their breakup went smoother and quieter than expected. Once his status had officially changed back to single in 2012, Tony went on inquiring about the Gotham billionaire whom he had not seen or heard of in over a year.

In Jarvis' many news-feeds on Bruce, another name popped up much too often in the same context for Tony's liking. Clark Kent, reporter for the Daily Planet and obvious acquaintance of Wayne, made him twitchy even though Tony could not pinpoint his suspicions. Metropolis was not far from Gotham City, and the newspaper publishing company belonged to Wayne, so it was nothing to get flustered about.

Or was it?

Kent aside, another factor to think about was the how and when to get in touch. Before he would go and take the suit to Wayne Manor to spy on Bruce at the risk of being caught, Tony decided to take the less conspicuous route and did what he was best known for.

He threw a huge party.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Once Bruce had his butler respond to his invitation by a formal, standard RSVP, Tony made Pepper organize everything on the largest and most expensive scale possible. One late summer night in September, Tony and his surroundings looked every part the suave playboy-gone-superhero.

A little past 11 PM, his mansion was packed beyond belief.

Bass-laden music boomed through the vast living room and out onto the patio, mingling with the noise level and laughter of his many guests. Tony stood behind the bar, drink in hand, and chatted along with some Stark Industries’ managers. Despite enjoying himself, he had kept an eye on the clock and the door where guests still rolled in like no tomorrow.

When his eyes came to rest on two tall, well-built men standing in the foyer, Tony was not prepared for the sight of Bruce Wayne with none other than Clark Kent by his side. Quick to morph the faltering grin on his face back into a bland expression, Stark watched from afar how Pepper greeted them, took each of their coats and led them into the living room.

Bruce Wayne was decked out in an all-black ensemble, with no tie but a small, silver pocket square. Once Tony managed to tear his eyes away from him, he mustered his company from head to toe. Kent wore a white shirt under a gray jacket and some dark jeans. His astute eyes blinked around behind a pair of black-framed glasses, and prompted Stark to think something along the lines of nerdy hipster.

With an easy quip, Tony left his current circle of conversation to welcome Bruce in grand fashion. From the way all eyes were on him as he skipped through the crowd with a confident, sexy swagger, Tony knew he looked good. From the look on Bruce's face, Wayne knew it, too.

"Bruce, there you are! Thought you’d leave me hanging.”  
Confusion lurked behind the Gothamite’s eyes at the exuberant welcoming.  
"Yes, well, thanks for the invitation. This is Clark Kent.”

Unconsciously, Tony pushed himself a little up on his toes and took the proffered hand.  
“Yeah, hi, Tony Stark. Didn't remember the invitations actually read plus one. My bad. Drink?”  
Clark shared a quick glance with Bruce before he gave a nod. Tony pointedly looked around.

“Pep – hey, Pep! Nother vodka on the rocks for me, and whatever the gentlemen here wanna drink.”

By the time Pepper Potts, personal assistant extraordinaire had arrived with two tonic water and a vodka, Tony Stark had already flown the coop. The redhead excused herself and left to find her wayward boss outside on the terrace, fumbling with his StarkPhone. He took the drink with something close to an apologetic smirk and took a gulp. Then he pocketed the device.

“God. This is completely ridic. Of all people, he brings the Metropolitan hunk along. Fuckin' hell.”  
Concerned, Pepper watched her boss and friend of many years down his vodka in one sitting.  
“I need you to do me a favor here, Potts. Go chat up that Kent dude. All I need is five minutes.”

Wordless, the PA chewed on her bottom lip. Tony's hand came up to give her shoulder a squeeze.  
“Okay... later. But inconspicuous. Imma go summon some more liquid courage in the meantime.”  
He handed the empty glass back to her and was gone sashaying through the crowd. Pepper sighed.

While Tony kept his distance towards Bruce, who mainly stood in a corner and made conversation with his companion, he still felt the glances the Gothamite threw his way every now and then. Stark then made sure to party even harder and even louder. It was a childish act of defiance if anything. Five more shots were all it took for Tony to get beyond his usual tolerance limit, after downing them almost back to back.

Much to his chagrin, Pepper was nowhere in sight to enact her part in separating Wayne and Kent, and the Californian billionaire suspected she hid on purpose. At some point, Tony, therefore, put all courage to his chest, brushed past Bruce and steadied himself on the nearby wall. Two pairs of curious eyes focused on him and made him responded with an exaggerated grin. His palm slammed down on Wayne's broad shoulder.

"Brucie, you neither drink m'booze, nor have ya talked t'me. M' feelin insulted."  
The Gothamite gave a sparse smile and proceeded to check his watch.  
"Apologies. It's hard to get a hold on the host. But we're about to leave soon, it's getting late."

Tony shook his head with such vehemence that he made himself dizzy for a moment.  
"Nononono, not 'ntil I showed you somethin in my workshop. Somethin in... private."  
The last part of his sentence was slurred. Bruce pinched his lips together and threw Clark a glance.

"I won't be long. Meet you back here in five?"

Kent nodded and cast a final look at Tony.  
Stark lightly swayed on his feet and took turns frowning and blinking between the two men.  
Then Bruce made a sweeping gesture towards the stairs.

"Lead the way."  
  
It nearly took them five minutes alone to make their way down the concrete steps. Inwardly Bruce feared Tony might stumble and crack his head open. The genius inventor managed to hold himself up, however, and even punched the correct access code into the wall panel at first try. As soon as the soundproof glass doors had clicked shut behind them, the noise level from upstairs died down.  
  
For a moment, neither said a word. Bruce cleared his throat.

"Now, what is it you wanted to show me?"  
From where Tony fiddled with his tie, he stopped as soon as he had pried its knot open.  
"Uh, yeah, m'new suit maybe? 'S rad as fuck."

He waved a careless arm into the direction of the seven suits lined up on a gallery behind.  
Bruce raised an elegant eyebrow.  
"Maybe?"

Silken material made a soft, sizzling noise as Tony yanked the tie off his neck and threw it aside.  
"Uh. Maybe not."  
He tilted his head and mustered the taller man from head to toe. Then Stark clicked his tongue.  
  
"Lookin good there, Bruce, by the way. Still doing parkour on the rooftops at night?"  
Wayne took his eyes off the Iron Man hall of fame in the background and gave an audible sigh.  
"Listen, Tony, I've got a jet waiting at the airfield and it's almost 1:30. Maybe we can..."

“Whatevs, I got it, you're busy. Then just go, forget it!“  
After his outburst, Tony stared down and fumbled with his hands, trying to get under the fingernail of his right thumb with his left index finger.  
Wayne mustered him, undeterred.

“Tell me.“  
Tony did not meet Bruce's eyes for a few heartbeats and only gave a little shrug of his shoulders.  
When he eventually spoke, his voice sounded small.  
  
"Dunno if you've heard, but I'm single as of late."  
Despite the disarming candor within his statement, Bruce gave no visible reaction. Tony snorted and glanced down at the floor again.  
"Guess fifty-something years is too big an age gap after all, huh?"

With a small shake of the head, Bruce reached out and put his hand on Tony's arm.  
"Sorry to hear. But you'll get by; I know you."  
When the Gothamite made a move to turn and leave, Tony grabbed his elbow tight.

"Yeah, you know me. An' you know we'd still be good, Bruce, don't'cha?"  
Bloodshot eyes darted around Wayne's face, desperation lingering on Tony's countenance.   
"Clark is upstairs waiting, I really need to go."

Bruce felt Tony's fingers claw into the flesh of his arm.  
"Are you happy, Bruce? Really happy?"  
When words failed the Gothamite, Stark made an attempt to kiss him.

Due to inebriation and their difference in height, however, he missed Bruce's lips by a few inches and landed near his jaw instead. Wayne then clasped Tony's shoulders and held his staggering form in place. Large brown eyes searched his face, confused and lost.

“Tony. You need to go to bed now, and sleep.”  
When Bruce leaned forward, Tony closed his eyes.  
“Join me? Gonna make it worth ya while, pr'mise.”

With a chaste kiss on his forehead, Wayne drew back and disengaged himself from Tony's grip.  
"Goodnight. Be safe, you hear?"  
Stark did not turn around to watch him walk out of the workshop and back up the stairs.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I struggled way too much with this last one. The longer I sit and stare at it doesn't change that fact though, so here you go. Thanks to everyone who read, kudo'd, subscribed, and endured the wait. All of you are seriously amazing!

Many things in the universe do not seem to make sense at first.

Things like dark-flow, for example. Since it is impossible to see what lies beyond visible horizons, people assume space to be filled with identical galactic structures. But things are always in motion, even if they are not directly observed by others. Sometimes even at an extraordinary speed.

Then there is the theory of an elusive magnet with only one pole. Magnetism and electricity both have to have a deep symmetry between them, by the laws of physics. They are bound to stay attracted to each other, even if their paths have been scattered beyond recognition.

When Tony learned about Gotham and Bane's reign in 2013, it was already too late and Bruce was gone. A year after the party at Stark mansion, Bruce had gone and sacrificed himself for the greater good of his city. Or so it seemed. Seeing the Avengers had no business whatsoever in Gotham, Tony Stark at least had made use of his resources and contacted the only remaining link left: Clark Kent.

“Listen fella, the goddamn manor's an orphanage now, and I can't get a hold on the butler. So spill.”

For a reporter, Kent was easy to see through. No fifteen minutes later, Tony had an address in Florence and something akin to a confession that Bruce was in fact not dead. After the call, Stark let his assistant charter one of his private jets and book a suite at the Cipriani in Venice.

Who said they would be unable to reunite in style?

It took about a dozen tries to get a hold on Alfred Pennyworth, two nights waiting by the phone, and thirty minutes for his Cessna Citation to make it back from where Tony had sent it to a private airstrip near Florence. Four days after Tony's arrival in Italy, Bruce Wayne stood in his doorway. The beard was new. So was his noticeable limp. His eyes, however, still held the same intense and guarded expression.  
  
Tony covered his bare chest with its glowing ARC underneath a thin dressing robe and held out a glass of cool, amber-colored liquid.

“Will wonders never cease, huh?”  
When Bruce did not make a move to take the proffered item, Tony walked up to him.  
“Ginger Ale. Drink, it's scorching hot outside.”

Wayne still had not spoken a word, but at least he took the glass. While he downed its contents in three large gulps, Tony only stared at the way his Adam’s apple moved. Bruce then reached out to cup the back of Tony's head with one palm and crushed their lips together without warning. Tony gave a surprised whimper before he, too, closed his eyes and opened his mouth.

The sweet taste of the soft drink lingered on Bruce's tongue, and it was not long before they stumbled over to the king size bed in the penthouse suite, leaving a broken glass and a trail of clothes behind. Once the earth had stopped moving beneath them, Bruce drew the sweated body next to him closer. “I had to sign up as Doctor Wayne Millner at the reception. Are you even real?”  
  
A sated yawn from the Californian billionaire, then Tony nodded along; a lazy, content nod.  
“Yup. The guy was a great football player - competitive, determined, and known for his sure hands. Just like you.”  
Tony grinned from underneath a mop of dark, tousled hair.  
  
“Oh, and the doctor thing popped up... only because. You'd make a hot doctor, by the way.”  
Bruce rolled his eyes and shifted the weight of his marred, left knee.  
“Wouldn't set too good an example myself there.”  
  
Tony brushed a gentle finger over the beard stubble on Bruce's cheek.  
“Coming back from the dead is an impressive accomplishment. I'd say that counts for miracle doc.”  
He then pulled the thin and cool linen sheets up to his waist and placed his head on his bent elbow.  
  
“Which reminds me: You're gonna talk and I get to listen. Great concept of a budding relationship.”  
At the way the Gothamite's lips twitched, Tony put up a self-assured smile.  
“Third time lucky, Bruce. Don't think I'm gonna take no for an answer.”  
  
Wayne turned on his back and crossed his arms behind his head.  
“Where do you want me to start?“  
Tony scooted near until he was able to press up against Bruce's bare torso.  
  
“At the beginning.“

 

END  



End file.
